Unexpected
by Serri
Summary: A teenager is accused of murder and the signature of the murder corresponds with those so-called "Supersoldiers". Only, this teenager isn't s Supersoldier at all.


Author's Note: This story is a bit odd . . . and it's an X-File, so I suppose it's doubly odd. Oh, well. It's actually based on a dream I had about a friend of mine (Tomorrow) going on a jolly murdering rampage . . . except for the fact it wasn't exactly her. No one could quite believe what was going on, and, because dreams seem to enjoy being perverse (as in contrary), I woke up before I could figure out what was going on. So how in the world do I make a plot like this work? That's an easy one—you make it an X-File.  
  
Characters: For anyone who happens to know or care about these characters (some of which are based on actual people) Malora Dulces is Tomorrow and Samantha Dayrus (he-he) is SCG. Mmm, others probably in the story that are not on the X-Files cast—Jaeryn, Arí, Serri, Hester, Star, and Guo-Xing.  
  
Disclaimer: Wow, I don't own the X-Files, Doggett, Reyes, Scully or anyone or anything else thought up by Chris Carter and Ten-Thirteen Productions . . . wish I had though.  
  
Title: Unexpected  
  
Saint Louis University  
  
11:45 am  
  
Malora Dulces breezily walked out of the general sciences building of Saint Louis University. She had just finished a chemistry lab and was about to meet her friend Samantha Dayrus for lunch. For the moment all seemed right with the world as she walked across the open campus, searching for her friend who had agreed to meet her somewhere near the general sciences building.  
  
Abruptly, someone called her name in a rather annoyed fashion. "Malora!" Samantha said, scowling only slightly as she hurried across the concrete to catch up with her friends. "Where are you going? You walked right past me!"  
  
"Hi, Sam!" Malora chirped, abnormally cheery.  
  
Samantha shot her an odd look and her eyebrows went up, visible over the frame of her glasses. "Someone's chipper," she remarked slowly. "What put you in such a good mood?"  
  
"We did a titration in chem today!" Malora said, still grinning. She watched as Samantha rolled her eyes.  
  
"Good Lord, you're weird—you should go tell Star that shrinks can start using titration labs for psychotherapy now. Forget psychoanalysis and art therapy—just use titration!"  
  
"Sounds good to me," Malora rejoined. The two continued walking toward Samantha's car which was parked on the sidestreet across from SLU. Malora laughed as Samantha related exactly which illegal hacking technique her computer sciences teacher had 'suggested' they 'not' use.  
  
"Of course," Malora said, looking her friend in the eye, "you don't really have to worry about hacking in to anything, do you?"  
  
"No!" Samantha sang out, the expression on her face decidedly mischievous. "I can get just about anything I want, whenever, and for whatever."  
  
Malora turned abruptly serious, her old worries beginning to crop up again. "I'm just glad you don't want to know anything."  
  
Samantha shot her another look. "If by 'anything' you mean something illegal or gross, then, no! I don't want to know anything." Samantha's eyes narrowed further. "And you'd be the first to know if I was doing anything stupid."  
  
"Probably not," Malora said with a self-effacing smile. "I can be . . . ."  
  
"Oblivious?" Samantha chimed in helpfully.  
  
"Thanks, Sam!" Malora said, slightly chastened.  
  
"Well, I'm right," Sam pointed out bluntly. She unlocked her car door and slid behind the wheel. "You wanna go to eat anywhere in particular?"  
  
"I don't care," Malora replied absently, her mind still on their unfinished conversation. "You know what I don't like."  
  
"What you don't like isn't the problem," Sam muttered under her breath. "Anybody can guess that. Just pick any restaurant. It's the one-in-a- million shot of picking something you like to eat that tells you you should try your luck at the lottery."  
  
Malora would have glared at Sam for her comment, but she had already retreated into herself, thinking about Sam's mysterious gift with computers. With little or no effort, Sam could plunk herself in front of a computer, stare at the screen, and just sift through information and data, being able to find anything she wanted anywhere—granted that Sam knew what she was looking for. If Sam had any kind of criminal proclivity whatsoever the girl could be very dangerous. She could sell any type of information to the highest bidder. But Sam didn't even consider it, in her own words to do something illegal and generous "would be stupid". When one of their friends, Hester, suggested that she could make a lot of money off that type of thing, Sam had replied that the trouble wasn't worth the money.  
  
A very small group of people knew about Sam's gift—and those same people had equally odd or even stranger gifts to accompany them. In addition to her ability to extract, add, and manipulate information from computers or electronic devices, Sam also was bestowed with telekinesis. In a similar matter, Jaeryn, a mutual friend of Sam and Malora, could find the same sort of information in books, and she could absorb knowledge in the same way. Jaeryn's other talent was the manipulation of gravity in any given situation. Malora herself had the ability to manipulate light as well as the gift of "empathy". Serri and Guo-Xing had taken it upon themselves to label Malora's ability to "read" and project emotions as empathic. Malora's empathic talents were upgraded to telepathic when in contact with another telepath—such as Serri Corazai. Serri's gifts were even more bizarre. She was what the sci-fi fanatics of the group called a 'touch telepath'. If Serri was within a certain distance of a person, she could know most of their thoughts. Like Malora's gift of empathy, one had to exercise effort in order to read another's thoughts, but Serri's telepathy had another element woven through it. She often got snippets of another's life—sometimes the past events that greatly affected a person—but it was always what Serri dryly referred to as "need-to-know" information. It was knowledge which seemed irrelevant at the time, but later was of great importance . . . a most cryptic gift. Serri could also sometimes perceive things that were happening through the eyes of someone else—most of the time, Malora.  
  
"Malora," Sam said, interrupting Malora's thoughts. "Are you obsessing over the talents . . . gifts . . . whatevers again?"  
  
"Yes," Malora admitted.  
  
Sam glanced over at her, her clear blue-gray eyes holding a hint of impatience. "What are you worried about? Come on—whoever chose to give us these gifts did it perfectly—remember what you, me, Arí, and Serri were talking about?"  
  
"Yes," Malora replied, thinking out-loud. "We each got gifts that fit our personality while simultaneously receiving ones that we could do the least harm with," she said, nearly quoting what Serri had said on the matter. "We could do a lot of harm, though."  
  
"Who?" Sam asked as they pulled into a parking lot of some fast-food joint that Malora didn't notice. "You think Serri's going to fry anybody with electricity?"  
  
"She might," Malora shot back.  
  
"Yeah, but if she did, whoever did it would deserve it," Sam responded matter-of-factly. "Same with Arí, same with Guo-Xing, Star wouldn't hurt a fly, Jaeryn's non-aggressive noodle arms. Me, I could take them apart one molecule at a time, but quite frankly I rather just kick them. You?" Sam pushed open the door and grinned. "Oh, please."  
  
Malora sagely raised her eyebrows. "I noticed you didn't name Hester, what if she got really angry or something—"  
  
"She's crazy anyway, I don't see how it'd make a difference," Sam retorted, "but come on—think about it. None of us is going to screw up because another of us could flatten us; end of story. Let's say Hester got out of control with that energy-wave-thing—Arí could stop it with her barrier, Star could suck the energy right out of her, and Serri could fry her."  
  
"What a lovely thought."  
  
Sam shrugged. "It's true. You're just not thinking clearly. You know these people. They aren't going to do anything wrong."  
  
Sam managed to convince Malora to think about something pleasant and brainless for the rest of the time. After Malora started to explain her latest Chrono-Cross story to Sam, she quickly forgot about all the mess about her friends' oddly received powers. When Sam pulled into Malora's driveway in North County, all thoughts of her friends left Malora's mind. There were two cop cars, one unmarked, sitting in the driveway.  
  
Panic struck Malora as Sam quickly parallel-parked on the side of the street and got out of the car. Every possible scenario of tragedy ran through Malora's mind as she ran across the grass, up the stairs to the door, pulling out her keys. Sam arrived at the door only a few moments later, not having to wait as Malora yanked open the door. Three police officers were seated in the house, Malora's mother and father speaking with them gravely. All three rose as Malora and Samantha appeared in the doorway.  
  
"Malora Dulces?" one of the cops, apparently a detective, asked.  
  
"That's me—what's going on, is everything all right?" Malora asked, her voice trembling.  
  
"Everything's fine, honey," her father said, obviously upset.  
  
The detective ignored the two, and took a step nearer to Malora. "Malora Dulces, you're under arrest."  
  
"Under arrest!" Sam repeated in disbelief. "For what?"  
  
"For the crime of murder," the officer finished. He began to Mirandize Malora, and the last thing Malora remembered before she fainted was Sam yelling her name, then turning to curse both detectives' stupidity quite ingeniously. 


End file.
